


Innamorato

by NeonAppleDarko



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Antagonism, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Sebastian is tired of this shit, Taunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonAppleDarko/pseuds/NeonAppleDarko
Summary: Nothing seems to delight Stefano Valentini about Union more than preying on Sebastian Castellanos.





	Innamorato

**Author's Note:**

> Of all the things for this to be inspired by, it was Dean Martin's rendition of "Innamorata" which I've always coveted as a Joseph/Sebastian song. A drabble written for my friend on Instagram, @Oreddchi, who's beautiful art is always inspiring.

Sebastian crumpled up the newspaper clipping and tossed it against the framed photograph of what he was absolutely certain was the decapitated head of Emily Lewis. How did no one suspect her photographer when he spoke about her last series of photos like he'd captured her soul within them? Krimson Police were rampant with corruption but he at least thought one of them may have been a competent detective.

"Idiots..." A chuckle sounded from immediately behind him. Sebastian was fast, whipping around with handgun drawn and trigger pressed. His aim was true but Stefano was faster with his camera than he could ever be. It clicked and the world shuddered to a stop, shrouded in heavy blue. His eyes strained to take in the detail with the lights wavering in and out of focus, splitting apart as if there were several layered over each other in contrasting colors. It hurt to look at but he couldn't blink, frozen helpless while Stefano walked around him and admired his old portrait of Emily hanging in front of them.

"Mi innamorai di lei. She was a fantastic model, so... Submissive. Ideal. She knew, you know." Stefano purred while rolling the handle of his curved knife between his gloved hands. "She even liked it, the photographs I would bring home. Wanted me to paint her red with what was left of them. Wanted to be a part of them. Mia Bella." He laughed softly, stepping in close to Sebastian, drawing the blade across the leather strap of his holster. "None were quite as exquisite as the photographs she gave me last. The wire bit into her neck and it was..." He inhaled sharply, white teeth biting at his lip. "...they weren't perfect, however. She did not struggle. She wanted to be the art as much as I wanted to make it." The knife stopped against Sebastian's throat, pressing in enough to feel it's presence but not cutting. He could see the ex-detective shivering beneath the blade.

"You struggle so well," He grinned and something glinted from beneath the sweep of his fringe. "It won't be much longer." The chromatic aberration blurred hard as their little brick of time warped around Stefano and suddenly nothing was in front of him. Sebastian wished desperately that he could blink. Tears welled against his lashes from the strain of staying open so long, and his wrist trembled violently where it was still neatly held mid swing. Finger digging hard against the trigger. A moment of violence stretched so long yet remained unfulfilled. A warm puff of breath against his cheek startled him but he couldn't even hiss while paused, straining his tired eyes further by trying to look toward the photographer. Teeth grinding as Stefano whispered in his ear.

"I can not wait to see what beauty you'll spill for me, innamorato." 

Sebastian lurched when the blue tinged time skip stuttered and let him go, shot firing harmlessly into the wall of what looked to be a living room some where in union. The extravagant halls of Valentini's mansion long gone with only an echo of it's master's laughter. Cursing he pressed his palms against his eyes, angrily rubbing at them until the tears spilled over and his vision cleared up. "Shit..." he growled, checking the handgun to find it empty as well as the pouch at his hip. "Out of ammo... Fuck!" He shouted, lashing out a wall and punching it hard enough to crack the plaster.

"Fuck you and your goddamn art!"

 

 

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End file.
